Joyce and Frank

Anyone who has caravanned for a time will have a story about being locked in or out of their van and our crazy mates El & Elle Prado have turned door locking into an artform. They’ve successfully locked themselves inside and outside of their van 5 times now and all that we can do is offer sympathy and laugh ourselves silly. When I read this poem in Everything Caravan and Camping I knew it just had to be shared and El & Elle, this one’s for you!

JOYCE AND FRANK by Robert Dungey

Joyce and Frank had had enough, they were calling it a day.
The happy hour had been and gone, it was time to hit the hay.
Frank was in his undies as he curled up in the bed
Joyce said she would shower first, then find a magazine she hadn’t read

They loved this caravanning life, the great wide open spaces
They’d seen so much of this big land, they’d been so many places.
And now that it was evening and time to take a rest
Frank was smiling at the roof….they were so truly blessed.

Suddenly a gust of wind, in the middle of Frank’s yawning.
It was something like a whirly wind and it really shook the awning
‘Joyce I’m popping just outside, to make sure the ropes are tight’
‘You get on with your shower love, I’m sure that I’ll be right.’

But the sight that greeted Frank outside was an awning at an angle
And the ropes that should secure it were just a messy tangle
‘Love I’m gonna need a hand, the awnings gonna tear
I need your help to hold it, hurry …bring a chair’

‘But Frank I’m in the shower!’…’well dear just grab a towel’
‘I can’t hold on here much longer, I need your help right now.’
So Joyce she wrapped a towel around, and stepped outside the van
Frank said ‘grab that awning rail and hold it if you can.’

They wrestled with that awning …though there now was wind and rain
It took them fifteen minutes but they got it fixed again.
What a sight the two of them, half naked in the storm
They needed to secure one rope then get into the warm

Comfort was within their reach…the awning now secure
Then a gust of wind from nowhere, slammed the flamin’ door.
As much as Frank would wrench and pull
That door was stuck closed tight.
And he and Joyce both barely clothed
We’re stuck out in the night.

There’s only one thing for it love, there’s one window with a gap
I’m gonna have to bunk you up and push you in through that
Now Joyce she is a sturdy girl…it was gonna be a task
Cos Frank has nothing much for muscles and a boney little arse.

Joyce climbed into the window, Frank gave a mighty shove
‘Is everything alright my dear? Are you ok my love?’
‘I’m not ok, I’m stuck halfway. Frank get me out and soon!’
Her boobs were in the kitchen sink, her butt looked at the moon.

Their private little drama, was no longer so
Lights came on all round the park, and everyone would know
Someone called the fire brigade, the cops would not be long.
This had the look to everyone of a robbery gone wrong.

Frank, he was a desperate man, in his Y front glory
And poor old Joyce was window bound, it was an awful story.
It wasn’t meant to be this way, so much had gone awry
Frank looked towards the heavens…and sadly wondered why.

A lady from the van next door had soon produced a sheet
And placed it with dexterity, Joyce’s modesty to keep
The police and fire brigade arrived with floodlights, ropes and ladders
And the local news reporter came…complete with crew and cameras.

Then the fire chief decided that they couldn’t get her free
They’d have to take her downtown to a local factory
they’d have to cut the caravan, make the window large.
The firemen stepped aside and left the coppers there in charge.

They hooked the caravan up to a yellow four wheel drive
And made poor Joyce more comfortable, so she’d endure the ride.
Four police cars sirens blaring were the escorts on the way
While choppers overhead relayed newsbreaks play by play.

The convoy was impressive as it wheeled on through the town
Joyce’s feet were sticking out, wrapped in her dressing gown
They pulled into the factory and found the right machine
And Joyce was free at last from this most horrific dream.

The reporter formed his headline for the paper the next day.
‘Naked woman trapped in window, butt it ended up ok ‘
It was the leading story on breakfast-time TV,
It was about as famous as those two would ever be.

Joyce and Frank still caravan, they still go from park to park
But it’s very, very, seldom that they step out after dark.
They have some notoriety, 15 minutes of great fame
But both say they’d be happy to be anonymous again.

Joyce and Frank

19 thoughts on “Joyce and Frank

    1. There wouldn’t be a caravanner in this wide land who hasn’t galloped about in wet soggy undies trying to secure an awning nor one who hasn’t been held captive by their door lock. It’s a character building pastime.😉


  1. This is one of my poems.
    Feel free to read my caravanning poems on my FB page…. Poems by the Crazy Man in the Caravan. (Google) Cheers


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